it seemed to me like this kind of short stories writen by Richard Ford... a day in the life of a person, at first sight a simple day, but there's a secret hiden behind. it made me think about the meaning of time: how different is the score of a match of your favourite team when you are young and you are supposed to see a lot of matches, or when you know it's going to be the last match you'll ever see. it's simple, dry and, unfortunately, sad.
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